The Savage Grace: A Dark Divine Novel(17)

“I can’t,” Slade said. He gripped the steering wheel like he was afraid I was going to try to physically pull him out of the car—and he was holding on for dear life. He stared at the flames, as if entranced by their deadly dance.

“What do you mean you can’t? I need your help.”

Slade just shook his head, not taking his eyes off the fire. I looked at Brent. His face was paler than morning frost. And then I realized what was going on. Something I’d read somewhere in all that research but I’d thought it was just another myth—werewolves were supposedly petrified by fire. Not a small flame like from Slade’s lighter, or the burn of a cigarette—but real, raging fire. Like the one that engulfed the warehouse.

“I know you’re freaked out. I’m scared, too, but we need to find them.”

Brent reached for the handle of his door, then he pulled his hand back. “I don’t think I can … I’m sorry…”

Slade didn’t say a word. I slammed his door. Ignoring the twinges of pain in my ankle, I bolted down the street toward the decimated warehouse, knowing I was on my own. I broke through the crowd—someone tried to hold me back from the building, but whoever it was wasn’t strong enough to stop me—and got as close to the fire as I could.

“Dad! Talbot!” I shouted toward the building. Of course, there was no response.

I stood absolutely still, the heat of the fire baking my face, and used all my concentration to let my senses guide me to where they might be. The ground underneath my feet shifted like it would during an earthquake. Talbot had said he was in the corridor between the Depot and the warehouse. That meant they had gone in through the secret underground club in the basement of the abandoned train station next door.

I ran down what remained of the alley between the two buildings and came to the thick metal door that led to the Depot. Normally, I’d need a key card to open it, but the explosion must have fried the sensors because the door was unlocked. I pulled it open. Heavy, black smoke mixed with concrete dust smacked me in the face. I choked and sputtered, then pulled off my jacket and used it to cover my nose and mouth as I ran through the doorway and navigated my way down through the blackness of the stairwell. I passed the entrance to the empty club, and opted for the second door that I had never walked through before—which I realized now must have been the secret entrance to Caleb’s lair all this time. It looked like it was normally guarded by a similar powerful electronic lock system as the one outside—but the door stood almost wide open now.

I hoped it had only been left open by Talbot, and not blown open by the force of the blast. Could anyone survive an explosion that strong?

I stood silently again, willing my pounding heart to quiet, until a faint sound reverberated in my sensitive ears. A low, airy noise accompanied by a high-pitched wheeze. Almost like a cough.

Someone was alive in the corridor!

I entered the pitch black of the hallway. Even with night vision, I could barely see anything in the thick smoke. I held my jacket over my mouth and nose with one hand, crouching low to stay out of the worst of the smoke, as I made my way through the dark of the corridor toward the source of the noise. I coughed into my jacket, grateful for the noise of it to help block out the howls of the wolf inside my head. It feared the fire even more than I did. It screamed at me, Turn back, turn back! I pushed forward instead.

It felt like it took an hour to traverse the corridor, but I knew it had been only a few minutes. I finally came to the end, only to find my way blocked by a flaming wooded beam that had fallen from the ceiling, cutting off the end of the corridor. Rolls of flames curled and lapped at what remained of the corridor above me. My lungs burned and ached, and my inner wolf grew more frantic. It’s not worth risking your own life. They’re all dead anyway. Turn back! Just when I thought the need for fresh air was going to force me to retreat, I saw something move behind the fiery barricade.

I willed my power into my eyes, and through the smoke and flickering flames I saw him. He was collapsed against the wall at the end of the corridor, just on the other side of the barrier—with what looked like my unconscious father in his arms!

I lowered my jacket just long enough to scream his name, “Talbot!”

“Grace,” he choked out. “Help me.”

My muscles surged with adrenaline. I forced power into my good leg. Don’t! the wolf shrieked as I sent a kick into the burning wood beam, flames licking at my pant leg. It cracked, splintering from the impact of my foot. One more kick broke it completely, sending cinders swirling around me. Run away! Get out of here! I used my jacket as a shield as I passed through the opening in the barrier in order to get to Talbot. I pulled my father from his arms.

“The smoke … too much.” Talbot coughed. His head lolled back.

“Stay with me! I can’t carry both of you.”

I pulled Talbot against my side. He clutched at my arm for support, and I tried to concentrate all my supernatural strength into my muscles as I hitched my large father up in my arms. But the lack of oxygen must have been getting to me, because he felt like a giant, limp rag doll—his dead weight almost crushing me.

Dead weight … No. I didn’t know that. He’s just unconscious, I tried to tell myself.

I took three lumbering steps, carrying my father and practically dragging Talbot at my side. I could barely see anything with the smoke stinging my eyes, but I could hear Talbot gagging and wheezing next to me.